


Unwoven Fate

by Kiatheinsomniac



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Assassins, Betrayal, Buried Past, F/M, Family Betrayal - Freeform, I'm bad at summaries but good at writing so I think you should check this out either way, Lies, Romance, Self-Discovery, Templars, The description makes it sound like and x OC but I PROMISE it’s not, new life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:01:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27515746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiatheinsomniac/pseuds/Kiatheinsomniac
Summary: "Killing my sister and her delusional husband was the best thing I ever did for this family."(Y/n) had been raised by her aunt and uncle ever since she was little after her parents were murdered in what seemed to be a robbery gone wrong. However, as soon as she overhears this from her aunt years later, her world turns upside down and she runs away from home to find out what really happened to her parents that night.On her journey of discovery, she meets the infamous Ezio Auditore da Firenze who will help her to learn the ways of the assassins and what caused such a devastating rift in her family.
Relationships: Ezio Auditore da Firenze/Reader
Comments: 18
Kudos: 29





	1. The Truth

It's incredible how something so tiny can change your life. The smallest of details are often like a thread; and once you start pulling and pulling and pulling, you've found something entirely new with everything you've gathered along the way.

(Y/n) gasped for a breath to fill her aching lungs, clutching at her chest to soothe her bleeding heart. Furniture was fallen into along the way, a chair tipping onto its side and the door slammed shut with her weight when she leaned against it.

She could still hear them now: the eloquent tones of her aunt, the rumbling chuckle of her uncle - the people who had raised her with such tenderness.

And who had lied to her face over and over and over and over.

She ran her hands into her hair, ruining what had been an intricate updo as she fell to her knees. She wanted to believe that she had misheard them, wanted to believe that she was asleep and that she'd wake any moment now. But she knew that she couldn't. There was no way of taking what she had heard out of context.

A confession.

The truth.

The truth which she thought she had known all along had been a lie and now she finally knew what was true. Did she though? Could anything ever feel true again after this? Truth didn't matter. What mattered now was that she knew. She grabbed the pillow from the side of her bed and held it over her face, letting out a screech that would put a banshee to shame if only it weren't silenced. Her throat felt raw and everything hurt.

Is this why people say 'stabbed in the back'? She wondered for a moment because she did feel as though she had been stabbed everywhere, her body aching and numb all at once, her mind a ruin.

Part of her wished she had never decided to eavesdrop and the other part thanked each deity she could name that she happened to be outside the door when the conversation had taken place.

She threw the pillow and stood up shakily, grabbing all of her bedding and throwing it onto the floor, throwing open her wardrobe to tear down her dresses and hurl them across the room. Her violin was next, followed by the makeup and the books and everything that she could lift. She pulled up the turned-over chair in the middle of it all, her throne of mess, hugging her knees to her chest.

They lied.

It was all their fault.

Innocent people were dead.

_"-oh, she was just like my sister when she first arrived." She heard her aunt begin to their guests. This is when she had stopped to listen. Previously, she had snuck into the kitchen for a cup of tea but had stopped when her ears pricked at this. The tone in her aunt's voice wasn't kind at all; it was disdainful. She had never spoken about (Y/n)'s mother like that before, not to her anyway._

_She pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear more._

_"She treated her femininity as if it were optional. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get her to wear a dress as a child? Oh, and she was spewing all of that Creed rubbish already: 'we must be able to make our own choices in life, we should not be controlled, that's what Daddy says'." She could almost hear the dismissive flick of the wrist that her aunt did so often._

_"Imagine what she could have been without you two to intervene." One of the guests, a man, contributed._

_"Exactly." (Y/n)'s uncle agreed, "She'd be running around on rooftops and jumping off buildings." He laughed, "Imagine her, our girl." (Y/n) furrowed her brow at this: what did they mean by running and jumping?_

_"Honestly, killing my sister and her delusional husband was the best thing I ever did for this family: it was the best thing for the world and the best thing for their child. Just look at her now! Such a proper and educated lady, she'll never have to even glimpse at violence in her life and she won't be a damned anarchist like her parents." (Y/n) had hardly heard the second part, the first sentence was all she could hear._

_"Killing my sister and her delusional husband was the best thing I ever did for this family."_

She got up from the chair and made her way over all of her scattered belongings. She had to leave. She didn't know where she would go or what she would do but she knew that she had to leave. She threw on a cloak and grabbed her bag, hurriedly rolling up a spare dress and shoving that inside.

She made her way down the corridor to her Uncle's study. She was never allowed in here unless summoned. Books and maps covered many of the walls along with those red and white banners with a cross right in the centre. She rummaged through the drawer of the desk until she found a coin purse and she stuffed that into the bag too. She could hear voices from the staircase now, coming closer and closer to the study.

"It's been kept secure until your arrival, Signore." She heard her uncle say and, unable to even question what he could be talking about, she knew that she had to get out or hide.

It was too late to use the door: they would see her. She knew that if she hid, she would be unable to keep her emotions in check and she'd have an outburst, blowing her cover. Her (e/c) eyes fell on the window.

There was a storm outside: unusual for the hot Italian weather - perhaps nature itself shared her pain this night - but she knew that she had no other choice, throwing it open and getting onto the support for the climbing flowers which her aunt insisted on. She landed, feet in the mud, and looked around for a moment.

The rain was already pelting down on her and a chill ran up her spine, making her clutch at her arms. Where to go? She decided to run across the gardens in the direction of the town's stable.

The family who had raised her had been monsters all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to start working on an easier piece. By easier, I don't mean this will be low-quality or lazy: I mean that each chapter will have less words than my usual 2500-4000 word chapters. Now that October is over, Huntress will once again be put to rest until next year and I'm still waiting to find the inspiration to write another chapter of The Cost of Her Love. With my new (much bigger) load of assignments I feel like this will be something I can work on much easier too! I hope you enjoy this and please, PLEASE, give me any sort of feedback you wish. I adore finding out what my readers think of my work. Happy reading!


	2. The Start of the Chase

(Y/n) allowed herself to be led to the local inn by the sounds of drunken singing and chatter. It was still pouring down with rain and her cloak was soaked through by now, her fingers numbing with cold. She almost let a sigh of content slip when she was hit by the warmth of the inn upon pushing open its worn door. 

Looking around, she spotted mostly men, some accompanied by their wives, and many shared the company of courtesans too. The drunk would be the easiest to get their coin from. (Y/n) knew to not waste time mingling and possibly getting herself into trouble, deciding to head straight to the bar. She made her way to the least crowded side and pulled her hood down, feeling the awkward stickiness of her damp hair clinging against her skin. 

The barmaid was a stout, rosy-cheeked woman with braided blonde hair and a large roman cross around her neck who was busy with pouring mugs of ale. When she seemed to pause to look around her tavern, (Y/n) took her chance. 

"How much for a room for the night?" She spoke up, catching the woman's attention. The barmaid seemed to look around behind the young woman for a moment, checking if she was accompanied. 

"Just you?" She questioned, finding it odd that a noblewoman was unaccompanied. 

"I'm off to my cousin's wedding. He's expecting me to arrive in Forlì in two days." She smiled. If people knew that she was expected, they knew that other people would be suspicious if she were to not arrive on time. 

"Ah! How wonderful!" The woman smiled, "And it's 150 florins." (Y/n) counted out her money and pushed it across the counter to the woman who called at a man to handle things in the tavern for a moment before leading (Y/n) upstairs. 

The room was small and humble: a single bed with a plain quilt, a worn wooden desk and chair and a water basin with a bar of soap beside it. The curtains on the window were yellowing and the barmaid made her way to the nightstand in order to light the candle with the one already held in her hand. She used patted down her apron with her free hand and looked around the room. 

"Sleep well and I hope you enjoy the wedding." She smiled briefly before pressing a key into the noblewoman's palm and leaving the room. 

(Y/n) dropped her bag and sighed, looking down at the metal in her hand and locking the door, walking over to the desk to place it down and pour some water into the basin. She reached for the ties of her bodice and began stripping down to her chemise, folding her clothes and setting them down after a while. The folding did not come easily to her, she was more accustomed to leaving her clothes at the end of the bed and having a servant put them away for her by the time breakfast was done the next day. It was as she started rinsing her hands with the cool water that she began to realise what difficulties would lay ahead. 

She was naïve to the world, she knew this and she knew that for this very reason, she would have to keep a keen eye out for danger. She had already protected herself with the quick lie of a cousin's wedding to attend. She knew not how to stay safe while travelling on the road, how to keep her purse safe from pickpockets, who to and not trust regarding the information she sought. She rinsed her hands with the bar of soap which had a weak scent of roses, dousing her face in the water too and reaching for her hair to braid it for the night, weaving her locks with agile fingers. 

She had an intuition which she trusted but she knew that this would only get her so far and it would not shield her from all dangers. After all, it had failed her when it came to her aunt and uncle who she so often saw as something like parents. Her aunt was her greatest lead but she could not bring herself to look upon her face ever again, nor her uncle's. For now, she would go back to the house in Forlì and start there, ask around for anyone who might have known. She may be fourteen years too late but there was bound to be someone who remembered, some whispered rumour of a noble couple who were slaughtered in the night and their child who emerged unscathed. Either way, she pulled back the quilt and laid down, reaching out to snuff out the candle and shroud the room in darkness. 

She thought back to that night: to the demons and the broken glass, to her father's sword glinting in the moonlight, to her mother tearfully shoving her only daughter's small body into the arms of the maidservant, to the final kiss that she pressed to her forehead before she swung at one of the intruders and he stumbled back with a cry of pain, clutching his eye. Then she recalled how the third shadow had charged through the doorway of the drawing-room, the scream that had left her lips and how the maid ran off with (Y/n) in her arms. The child had looked over the woman's shoulder to see her father be kicked in the back, falling to the ground and how her scream had made her mother turn around long enough for the end of the dagger to come protruding from the centre of her torso. 

The memory made her flinch, gripping the cover of the pillow with scrunched eyes as she brought her knees up to her chest. It was one that she had tried so hard to forget and yet, all the same, it was what had kept her awake for so many nights of her childhood. 

She tried to think of something else, anything else. But now she no longer saw senseless violence as the death of her parents. Now, she saw a planned attack, a coordinated one. 

One commanded by her uncle and aunt. Her own family.

Tomorrow would bring a new day and new dangers but she would make her way to Forlì and find out if these men were caught, if there was any trace of a motive behind the attack; her aunt had called her father deluded: why? She needed to find out. She knew that her father had been of a lower station than her mother but that can't be the motive behind the murder or else her mother would still live. But she knew that she was still too ignorant to rule out class and finance yet. 

But she had made a big decision now, a tough one, and she knew that more would only come from now on. She had run away to chase the truth and she was determined to find it. 

She could only pray that she would make the right choices.


	3. The First Puzzle

(Y/n) urged the horse forward as the church steeples and guard towers of Forlì came into view, hearing the hard thrumming of the creature's hooves become quieter as the ground gave way to softer marshland. She remembered this village outside of the city's walls, remembered her mother teaching her how to horse ride on its outskirts. She gripped the reigns tighter, biting her cheek to suppress all the emotions that she decided she could deal with later; for now, she just had to find her old home.

She wondered if she even had a home now. Either her old familial home was now abandoned or inhabited by a new family and her Aunt and Uncle's villa no longer felt like home.

She had lived within the walls, far from the citadel (well far for a child to walk anyway), that much she could remember. She could recall one of the guard towers being visible from her bedroom and that the villa had a small courtyard in the centre with a mosaic on the floor.

As she approached the city gates, she made her way to a stall where she paid the boy to watch over her horse for a few hours. Patting down her dress, she made her way into the city, trying her best to not look as lost as she felt, deciding to follow the wall and see if anything seemed familiar to her. She hadn't been here in over a decade but she was alone now and she needed answers.

Always more questions without enough answers to satisfy them.

People bustled around on the streets, children playing, women running errands, men working. (Y/n) pulled her cloak around her, eyes flittering around. She was sure that enough had changed over the past decade and a bit for her to be at a disadvantage in relying on familiarity. But she hungered for answers and the only lead that she had was this villa: confronting her remaining family was out of the question. What if it put her in danger? Surely they loved her too much to harm her? Why did they have her parents killed? Why was she spared? Why did her Aunt talk about them like that?

Why? Why? Why? And absolutely no 'because...' to accompany it. Biting her cheek again, she realised that she had never felt like such a naïve and vulnerable child in her life until now.

After an hour of fruitless searching, she decided that enough was enough and set towards the church, deciding to ask for directions. Approaching the grand building, she stepped into the large, open doors. Her footsteps starting to echo around the room, seeing people seated on the pews or kneeling before lit candles, their prayers to loved ones lost. Slackening a moment, she approached the racks of candlesticks, watching the flames dance.

Picking up one, she used it to light another two on the front row, placing the candle back where she had plucked it from. Her breath caught for a moment as her eyes glanced up for a moment to the stained glass of the holy virgin that was showering her in an array of colours.

"I'll find out what happened to you. . . What happened to us. . . I promise." She whispered before stepping away, seeing a priest walking in. He was old: his hair white, posture stout and skin marked by time, leaving lines of stories and memories upon his face.

"Excuse me," (Y/n) started, approaching him, "I'm a little lost and was wondering if you could give me directions." Best to ask the old people, they were more likely to know the way; past the age of travelling, they must have stayed put for some years at the least.

"Of course! Where would you like to go?" He smiled.

"I'm looking for the (L/n) family villa, well, it may not have been called that for some years." She put forward.

"That place?" He seemed taken aback, "Why would a lady like you need to go to such a tragic site?"

"My cousin survived the attack there years ago, poor girl. She wants to find out what became of her old home but couldn't bring herself to face it again. I offered to go in her place." She lied. Her Aunt and Uncle would have people looking for her soon and she didn't want to be found. Best to not leave any leads behind. They would find the innkeeper soon and she didn't want anyone following her. She had to try and cover her tracks somehow.

"Oh, the poor child, I remember the news of that attack. I never knew the family personally but they lived near the wall towards the east." He continued to give her the specific address before they parted ways with a blessing from him on behalf of her and her 'cousin'.

Within minutes, she was standing before her old family home. The flowers around it were well-kept and she could see that same mosaic through the gates. The columns, arches and crème-coloured stone were all just as she remembered.

"May I speak to one of the residents here?" She asked a guard, seeing their distrustful glances, never having seen her before. "I lived here before this family and I was just wondering if I could look around, for memory's sake." She smiled softly, wanting her pure intentions to get across. One of the guards turned to the gate and called for the gardener who was instructed to fetch someone.

Within a few minutes, a finely-dressed woman with dark locks and tanned skin was making her way to the gates, eyeing the young woman who stood before her. (Y/n) was very aware that she looked less refined as was expected of a noblewoman. Her hair was not styled and was rather wind-swept from the journey, the end of her dress stained from the splatters of mud from the marshes.

"I hear that you lived here once." She began. (Y/n) bowed her head respectfully.

"Yes, signora." She replied, "I merely wanted to revisit some memories. . . for closure. I lived here as a child."

"The child who survived the attack?" She raised a brow.

"Yes, signora." The woman seemed to think for a moment before motioning her hand to the guards.

"Let her in."

While being allowed to wander the rooms and halls, (Y/n) found herself approaching the drawing-room last. She knew that it would be a difficult place to face but she also knew that she needed to find something, anything. Everywhere else had given her nothing so far. But she had to face the tragic room eventually and when she did, she felt her throat close up.

Suddenly, she was a child again, in the maidservant's arms, crying out for her parents. She could see her father's body kicked to the floor and her mother falling to her knees with a dagger in her chest. Her teeth sank down into her cheek as tears welled in her eyes.

"I'm sorry." She shuddered as she took a moment to compose herself, unsure if she was talking to herself, her parents or the owner's wife who was following her around. "This is where it happened." Her fingers quickly dashed under her eyes.

"Don't apologise, dear." The woman consoled, hesitantly resting her hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

"I should be on my way now." She sniffled, getting her emotions in check at last, "I'm sorry if I've been a bother to you." She felt a weight in her chest at the lack of answers she had found here, not knowing where to go next, finding herself at a dead end. 

"Not at all, I couldn't deny you something so simple." The woman replied as she led her out of the house, back across the courtyard.

But something stopped (Y/n) in her tracks, a feeling like a pulse, a calling. She turned around again, looking around the courtyard to the mosaic with its image of an eagle. Her feet seemed to carry her before it and she felt something surge in her veins, a familiar feeling. That odd feeling where she could mute the world of colour, see it be reduced to dark blues and greys.

Air filled her lungs as she muted out all the world's bright colours only something was different this time, something new. There was a pattern on the mosaic, highlighted in gold and shimmering. Two halves of an image facing out from each other with one piece in between. She got onto her knees and ran her fingers over the pattern, hearing the woman ask if she was alright.

(Y/n) pressed her hands to the art, pushing down on the two outer pieces as hard as she could and trying to rotate them. Not having used enough force, she pushed her body forwards and the right one shifted, meeting the image in the middle seamlessly, beginning to show the whole symbol. Now using both hands on the left side, she shifted that into place too and there was a hiss of air as the whole mosaic shifted upwards.

The symbol was one she was sure that she had seen before but couldn't remember where. Like an arrow facing upwards with a pointed curve beneath it.

Fingers digging into the edge of the secret door now, she pulled the piece up and pushed it across the stone floor. There was a shallow compartment beneath it, containing a scroll and something wrapped in cloth.

Her eyes widened and she could have jumped with joy. Something at last! Shoving everything into her bag, she put the mosaic back and turned around to the woman who seemed more than surprised.

"Thank you so much!" She smiled before getting on her way, deciding to leave the city and rest in Florence for the night. She didn't want to stick around Forlì now that people knew she had been there. She needed to learn how to disappear. Looking at her cloak and dress, she knew that it would attract more attention, especially now that travelling was taking its toll on her appearance. It only made her look suspicious. She needed a much plainer outfit.

Making her way to the tailor's by the southern gates, she greeted the man with a smile, seeing a woman in the back organising all the fabrics.

"What can I get for such a fine young lady? Silks imported from the east perhaps? Dyes from beyond Arabia?" He offered.

"I don't have a lot of money." She replied, keeping in mind that she would need to save what coin she had for rooms to rent at night and food to eat, "But I can sell you my cloak and dress along with the coin, it only needs a light wash. I need a peasant's pinafore, a pair of trousers, a plain but warm cloak and some boots. I can give you 18 florins with my skirt, bodice, shoes and cloak. The material's velvet and the ribbons are silk." She threw in for good value. The man narrowed his eyes at this request and she could see suspicion growing on his face.

"I must ride alone to my betrothed in the countryside and I don't wish to be attacked along the way. People see the clothing and know I own something of value to have stolen from me." She quickly excused.

"Ah, I see. I did think it was quite odd." He replied with a sympathetic smile, "Poor girl."

"I just rode into here to make sure that the sword I have commissioned for our wedding will be done on time." She began making small talk, hoping to erase the man's doubt entirely, "The blacksmith doesn't seem very good at replying to letters." She laughed.

"Well, I'm sure your husband-to-be will love his wedding gift almost as much as he loves you." The man smiled as he led her inside the shop, knowing she would need somewhere to change.

⚜⚜⚜

Within a few minutes, (Y/n) was dressed in a grey pinafore dress with a black cloak, a pair of boots that stopped halfway up her calves and a pair of trousers in her bag.

As she laid her old dress, cloak and shoes over the counter and counted out her coins, she looked up at the tailor who seemed unsatisfied.

"There it is," (Y/n) spoke, hoping to get an answer out of him. He looked up with a frown.

"That's not all of it." He replied.

"We agreed on my dress, shoes, cloak and 18 florins!" She retorted, brows furrowing.

"I want those earrings too." He nodded his head towards her, eyeing up the rubies and pearls that were set in gold. (Y/n) bit her inner cheek.

"If I throw in the earrings you only get 7 florins." She spoke bitterly, knowing that he had backed her into a corner by doing this.

"13 florins."

"How about two florins, no earrings and I run out the gates now?" She clenched her fists, willing them to stop shaking.

"Is it worth your life?" He narrowed his eyes, glancing over her shoulder to a group of patrolling guards.

She could just take off now. Her horse was just outside the gate and she'd be gone before the guards could even get over the first bridge. Or she could play it safe and pay the man what he wanted.

"10 florins and the earrings." She bit out. The man smiled widely, knowing that her earrings were worth an awful lot more than those extra coins anyway.

"Deal." He grinned smugly. (Y/n) took the jewellery off and let one of them slide off the counter and onto the floor in spite.

"Bastard." She hissed as she took her leave, fuming that she had lost so much money for such a cheap disguise. She had intentionally kept her jewellery to sell as a last resort for if she ran out of money - which she knew was bound to happen eventually. Either way, she still had the broach in her bag and two rings. The string of pearls around her neck was out of the question; they had been her mother's. 

With an aura like a thunderstorm, she collected her horse and began riding south to Florence, feeling hunger start to bite at her stomach. As she did, something loomed over her which told her that getting answers would not be as easy as she originally thought. The new weight in her bag of the scroll and whatever was wrapped in that cloth told her, whispered to her almost, that this wasn't even a glimpse into the truth and her journey was only just about to begin.


	4. The Remains of Monteriggioni

(Y/n) had left her horse outside the walls of Florence, making it her priority to rent a room for the night before examining what she had found at her childhood home. The streets of Florence were busting with bards, merchants, artists, guilds and all other civilians of the home city of the Medici. 

Well, former home city. 

Something was wrong here, the same something wrong that she had missed back in Forlì. These weren't Florentine guards. Their uniforms were red and higher-ranked guards bore the emblem of a bull. It seemed that everywhere she had travelled to in Tuscany thus far had these soldiers patrolling the streets. Something had happened: some form of conflict or siege perhaps? 

(Y/n) didn't know a lot about politics; 'it's not a lady's business', her Aunt had always told her. That had always annoyed her. Regardless of the discrimination of her sex, it was the lack of knowledge that irritated her the most, something for her Aunt to lock away right before her eyes, like a child having their favourite toy taken away for their bad behaviour. 

These past few days were the only ones in which she was no longer treated as a child for the first time in her life. And it was getting increasingly difficult. 

Terracotta rooftops and tall church steeples rose from the ground around her as she made her way to a tavern, paying for her room and having to barter a little with the price, knowing that her money would run out sooner than she would like. Settling down in the bar below, she tore off a piece of bread to wipe around the edge of her soup bowl, mopping up anything that was leftover and leaning over her bowl. 

Her bag was settled on her lap, too worried to leave it and its contents alone in her room. She had started using an alias and trying to hide her face as much as possible by now, knowing that her Aunt and Uncle would use their influence to have people searching all over Tuscany. So, now she was Maria: a merchant's daughter attending the communion of her cousin in Venice, only passing through Florence for a time. 

"It was a very powerful speech, indeed, but I would have liked to see the stronzo burn." A man grumbled from a table nearby, speaking to his friend between finishing his drink, "He's the one that got the attention of the Borgia and if not for him, perhaps they wouldn't have come to Firenze at all and the Medici would still be here." 

(Y/n) could feel her ears perk up almost, turning her head away to listen without suspicion. The name Borgia rang a bell, hadn't her Uncle mentioned travelling to see a Borgia once? She could recall the event: sitting by the open garden doors while embroidering, her Uncle preparing for his journey. He had been gone for two weeks. 

But who was this Savonarola? (Y/n) knew of the Medici, of course, but why weren't they here? The Borgia had taken over the city? Had the infamously rich family been executed, imprisoned or exiled? 

"I think it's worth listening to Auditore." The other man replied, "He was wanted for a long time so something must have been keeping him busy, Something that motivated his speech, I bet. I was there when his family was killed, you know? I was one of the people that thought they were all guilty of betraying our republic and I saw him calling out in the crowd. He was only a boy, then mind you." 

More names: Savonarola, Borgia, Medici, Auditore. She repeated them like a mantra in her mind, engraving them there. She hoped that things would add up as she went along (although, much of that hadn't happened just yet) and these names could come to meet her understanding in time too. 

As the men changed their topic, she decided that now was the time to check what she had found back at her childhood home. Travel, shelter and hunger had taken up her priorities until now. 

Paying for her meal at the bar, she headed up the creaky stairs to her small room. She'd bought the cheapest one and the price showed: a small section of the loft with narrow walls, a singular bed and a desk with a candle that was on its last hour of light by the looks of things. Stepping outside, she lit it from the one mounted on the corridor wall, heading back into the room and locking the door behind her. 

Sitting at the desk, she carefully took out the scroll and the wrapped object, placing them down as gingerly as if they were holy relics. She bit her cheek as she ran her fingers over the mysterious parcel, feeling herself falter as she imagined either of her parents doing the same so many years ago. Taking a breath, she reached for the scroll first, untying the cord around the middle. 

Upon opening it, she realised that it had been folded as a letter once, with the wax seal broken on either side of the paper. The ink showed the same signs of age as the paper which was discoloured and fading. 

_Signore y Signora (L/n)_

_The Assassins have lost their hold over Firenze. My brother and two of my nephews have been executed by the Templars. There was a traitor in their midst: Uberto Alberti. My surviving nephew has travelled here, to Monteriggioni, with my sister-in-law and niece. Do not try to continue your work in Firenze and do try to get your contacts in the city to safety, if possible. The Assassin stronghold has now been moved here. We need to reinforce our ranks: I am training more mercenaries and slowly introducing my nephew to the ways of the Assassin. Keep yourselves and your daughter safe._

_We work in the dark to serve the light. We are Assassins._

_-Mario Auditore._

Assassins. Her parents had been Assassins. That name! Auditore. Could Mario be the one that the men downstairs were talking about? No, the man said that a boy had called out to his family from the crowd and Mario mentions a surviving nephew. This nephew must be the Auditore that the two men were speaking of. Folding the letter back up, she reached for the wrapped parcel next. 

Her fingers carefully worked on unwinding the string that kept it all together, pulling it away until she could start peeling back the cloth. But she wasn't entirely sure of what she was looking at afterwards. 

Some sort of arm guard? It had a form of shaft going along the length of it with very intricate metalwork. Her brows furrowed as she picked it up and turned it so that the shaft was facing downwards. That symbol again, the same one that had been on the mosaic - it was at the base of the arm guard. 

She had been hunting with her Aunt and Uncle before and was trained with a bow. This device looked similar enough to the arm guard that she had to wear to prevent her arm from potentially receiving an archer's kiss, a bruise from the impact of the string hitting the arm if your elbow was positioned wrong. Pulling up her sleeve, she attached it to her arm and held the limb out to examine the armour, pushing her wrist back to-

She gasped as the shaft moved with some mechanism, causing a blade to poke out and stop with a noise. Her fingers had instinctually curled in to prevent them from being sliced off. 

Examining the device further, she guessed that more of the blade was stuck inside the shaft, what had come out looked too small compared to the size of the arm guard. It hadn't been touched in years, perhaps time had taken its toll on this too? she reasoned. Rolling her wrist to try and trigger it again, the blade shot back into the shaft. She took it off and switched it to her dominant hand instead: this was not armour, this was a weapon. 

She put the letter back in the bag and shoved it under the bed, changing her clothes and laying them over the back of the chair of the desk. She could feel as she braided her hair that it needed to be washed and she prepared herself to go to sleep. In the morning, she would set off to Monteriggioni and see if Mario Auditore and his family had any answers for her. 

She couldn't help but smile to herself as she looked back at the hidden blade before stashing it back into her bag. Finally, she felt like she was getting somewhere! She had travelled from Forli to Florence now on the hope of finding something and now she finally had. Her parents had been Assassins! Someone in Monteriggioni could have answers! Snuffing out the candle and pulling the woollen blanket over her body, she closed her eyes. Tomorrow morning, she would head out for Monteriggioni. 

⚜⚜⚜

She had to get off her horse as soon as the town was in her sights. Tears prickled her eyes as she led the creature by the reigns instead. She always felt two steps behind the world: as if, while living with her Aunt and Uncle, what would have been her life had continued while she was left behind to learn how to play the violin and how to embroider, how to have her whole life planned out for her. Be a lady, marry a man, give him heirs, die. It was the only future she knew but now another one was revealed to her; one that had been taken and she couldn't go back to. 

But she would make a new one - she was making a new one - right now. 

She left her horse outside the city's walls, looking around at the rubble. The defences had crumbled in many areas, homes showed signs of having been burned down either partially or entirely. The people looked tired, hungry, scared. 

The remains of a large villa stood at the far end of the small town, the stairs leading up to it having makeshift paths for the people to cross safely over the damage. (Y/n) reached out to place her hand on the arm of a woman passing by. Her blonde hair was styled up with wisps framing her face, her silk skirts were dirty and she hugged a shawl around her shoulders, her makeup a mess. She had no undershirt, just her corset. She looked cold. 

"Excuse me but, what happened here?" 

"The filthy Borgias! That's what! They came a few weeks ago and destroyed the place early in the morning. Almost everything is gone and those who can't help to rebuild are leaving." (Y/n)'s eyes were caught by a red and gold flag on the floor, partially covered in debris, that same symbol! The one worked into the blade on her arm and on the mosaic puzzle. 

"And that flag? What does the symbol represent?" She pressed further. 

"I've always assumed it belonged to the Auditore family, they started flying them shortly after they arrived. The villa was theirs, they ran the town, brought it to prosperity." There! That name again! Things were adding up. (Y/n) had to contain her excitement. Upon seeing the state of the town, she felt that it could be another dead end but this could lead her to the family who knew her parents, this other family of Assassins. 

"And where are they now? I need to meet them - I've come a long way." The young woman continued. 

"Lucrezia, dai!" The blonde looked over (Y/n)'s shoulder to a group of women dressed similarly to her. Courtesans. 

"The family's daughter owns a bordello in Roma now, we are travelling there today." 

"Can I come with you?" (Y/n) spoke with a pleading note in her voice, "I won't trouble you, I just need to find these people." The courtesan eyed the woman eerily. 

"And why would a lady like you, want to travel with girls like us?" Her eyes became fixed to the strings of pearls around her neck that were poking out from under her chemise. 

"Because I'm alone and I've never travelled before recently. Someone wronged my family years ago when I was just a child. My parents died as a result. The Auditore's are the only ones who might be able to help me find out why." She paused, "Please." 

The courtesan gave a pitiful smile, "I'm sorry to hear that. . . Come along." She beckoned with her hand as she led (Y/n) over to the group of girls. 

As she mounted her horse again, she felt anxious. She didn't know what she was going to find in Rome. Her parents had been Assassins. What if they had been bad people? Who's to say that they had killed for good? She had only told herself this because she wanted to believe it. What if she was wrong?

Either way, she would find this Mario Auditore in Rome and, hopefully, she would find answers with him.


	5. Ghosts of the Past

The trip with the courtesans had been a long once and she was glad that she had arrived so early in the morning at Monteriggioni or else she would have missed them. It was nice to have company. She shared her story with the girls along the way; from the attack on her childhood home, being raised by her Aunt and Uncle and that life-changing eavesdrop to her travels across Tuscany.

The young woman did her best to keep her body moving on the horse, trying to stay warm after she had lent her cloak to Lucrezia, an hour into the journey, who had been shivering violently and cursing the bitter cold. The courtesans were good company: they kept good conversation and were an entirely new type of people to (Y/n).

Her Aunt had told her that they were vile women, taking the easy way in life, that (Y/n) should be proud to be unlike them. (Y/n) had acknowledged that this was her Aunt’s opinion but had never formed one herself, never having met a courtesan until this day. They had been kind and they paid her respect too, it seemed. And it was a different kind of respect, one she had not experienced before: it was not the obligatory respect that came with her family money and her fancy outfits, it was a respect that she had earned herself by respecting these women in turn, by sharing her generosity with them regarding her cloak and letting some of them ride her horse when their feet grew tired.

The rented horse was stolen by now: she had known that she wouldn’t be back in the promised time when she rented it but now a part of her felt bad for taking it away from its owner. Either way, she needed the creature - until she reached Rome, anyway.

Upon arriving, some more girls were waiting at the gates to help carry bags of belongings and lead the courtesans of Monteriggioni to their new workplace in Rome. (Y/n) trailed along behind them, looking around as she travelled. Those same guards were here: the red uniforms with the bull crest. Those bull flags flew from towers, Roman ruins, homes and shops too.

Bull… Bull! The papal Bull! She resisted the urge to smack herself in the head: how had it taken her so long to figure it out? Was the Pope on a quest to conquer Italy? To divide or to unite?

Either way, she followed the courtesans, the group of girls patiently waiting as she left her horse discreetly in a stable, not wanting to pay to have it watched. Her money was running thin as it is.

After a while of walking (hearing the calls and whistles of men for the girls all the way), they arrived at a grand building, covered in Roses and seemingly recently restored. Courtesans waited outside and Lucrezia stopped at the threshold to hand (Y/n)’s woollen black cloak back to her.

“Thank you for your kindness and company, we’ve all enjoyed you coming with us.” The blonde smiled, leaning forwards to give her an amiable hug. (Y/n) froze for a moment before returning the gesture, wrapping her arms around the woman and squeezing for a moment before they both pulled back.

“It’s not a problem at all - I’m thankful that you let me come with you. Now the Auditores… ?” She replied, looking around the brothel to see courtesans and men all around, the place smelling distinctly of sleepless nights and roses.

“Who are you looking for in particular?” She quizzed, “Ezio, I assume?” Lucrezia replied, gesturing her hand to the hidden blade on (Y/n)’s wrist. 

“Mario, actually. That was the name in the letter.” The blonde woman’s face dampened for a moment, her smile fading.

“He was killed in the attack.” She replied sadly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that you were looking for him or else I would have told you.”

“He mentioned some other relatives in the letter: a sister-in-law, niece and nephew. Are they alive?” (Y/n) questioned, biting her inner cheek and starting to pray that she had not come to Rome for a fruitless journey.

“I should hope so.” A matured voice spoke up from the staircase. There, stood a woman in her late-middle-ages. Her hair was dark and streaked with grey, crows feet at her dark eyes. Her hair was styled up and she wore the sort of dress that (Y/n) was so accustomed to wearing herself. “What business do you have with my family?” The young woman assumed that this was the in-law.

“It’s a bit of a long story…” She began, approaching the woman and bowing her head with respect, “I’ve travelled from the countryside near Forlì. From there, I’ve been to the city itself, then Firenze, Monteriggioni and now Roma.”

“Then your journey has been a long one.” She turned around and started walking up the stairs, “Come, rest in the office and tell me your tale.” (Y/n) followed behind, hearing the faint sounds of the women working behind heavily closed doors.

The office wasn’t too small, with a desk in the light from the back window, a bookshelf and a long screen dividing the room, seeing the posters of a bed behind the screen.

A young-looking woman, but older than (Y/n), was sitting at the desk with a quill in hand, a letter in another. She looked up upon the arrival of the two new women.

“Mother, who is this?” She asked politely, giving (Y/n) a small smile before continuing with her work.

“She says she has business with our family.” The older woman replied. So this was the niece, (Y/n) concluded. The in-law gestured for (Y/n) to take a seat before taking one herself.

“I’m going to have to give you a bit of my life’s story for all of this to make sense but I’ll try to keep it as short as I can.” She began, looking between the two Madames of the brothel. “When I was a young child, my family home was attacked. My mother put me into the maid’s arms and told her to run but I saw the attackers kill my parents. My Aunt and Uncle took me in after that and raised me as their own. But, a few days ago, I was walking past the room where my Aunt, Uncle and their guests were and I heard her…”

She took in a shaky breath to compose herself, the words wounding her just as deeply as the moment she first heard them, “I heard my Aunt say that she’d had my parents killed… And that she thought it was the best thing she had ever done.” She could see the shock on the women’s faces after saying this. “Since then, I travelled back to my childhood home in Forlì where I found a secret compartment containing this-” she showed her hidden blade and pulled Mario’s letter to her parents out of her pocket, placing it on the desk, “-and this. I don’t know anyone else who knew my parents except my existing family and Mario. I’m sure you can see why confronting my family was out of the question.” Claudia had read the letter by now.

“Your parents were Assassins too?” Claudia spoke up and (Y/n) nodded her head.

“I never even knew until I read this…” She bit her cheek to fight the tears that threatened her eyes, “And suddenly I feel like I don’t know anything.”

“I think it would be best if you speak to my son, Ezio.” The in-law spoke up, catching (Y/n)’s teary eyes, “He is acting as the Assassin Brotherhood’s leader at the moment and if he isn’t already informed of your parents then one of his contacts will be.”

“Thank you…” (Y/n) trailed off, looking between the two strangers and realising that she did not know their names still.

“Maria.”

“And Claudia - I am sure that you know our surname well.” She smiled, giving (Y/n) back the letter from Mario. She could tell that she was sad to let something go that had been written by her passed uncle, “My brother can be a hard man to contact but I have a meeting with him in three days, I can take you with me and you can discuss things with him then.”

“Thank you.” (Y/n) replied gratefully, “Until then, do you know any places nearby where I could rent a room?”

“You can stay here until then.” Maria offered, “We will close off a room for you. There’s one downstairs that serves as more of a supply cupboard than a workplace, I’m sure you’d prefer that.”

“I’ll take whatever you’ll give.” She replied gratefully and heard her stomach rumble, inwardly cringing and hoping that the other two hadn’t heard her. It was now becoming evening and she hadn’t eaten since Florence yesterday.

“There is a baker’s nearby though.” The younger Auditore woman smiled amiably, getting up from her seat, “Come, I’ll take you.”

⚜⚜⚜

The past three days had been spent at the brothel: spending much time talking to Claudia and understanding her job in the Brotherhood as well as the courtesan teaching her a few Assassin tricks: blending in, pickpocketing (it had felt very dishonest to (Y/n) but the last of her money had been spent on food and she knew that she needed it to get by - she also found that she was also very good at it). She was small and went more unnoticed than others when she bumped into someone and her fingers were quick, nimble from her years of violin-playing.

“We’re heading to Isola Tiberina.” Claudia had told her that afternoon. Claudia was wearing a fine red and gold dress and (Y/n) decided that she didn’t want to feel underdressed compared to her, slipping on the deep blue silk dress that she had kept in her bag, the one not given away to that bastard tailor in Forlì. She kept her hair in the two dutch braids which had now become much more comfortable for her as they were easy to do, held fast and kept her long tresses out of the way.

She followed Claudia through the streets of Rome, keeping close and trying to memorise each detail in order to learn her way around the city by heart. Some streets were narrow and there were staircases that looked like an alley but turned out to be a door, tunnels were scattered around too and there were some small gardens here and there. Eventually, they reached a river and Claudia led the two of them over a bridge. (Y/n) looked up to a tall building that had a pigeon coop and stood in front of a small square of sorts.

Merchants and craftsmen called out to passers-by and the Auditore woman led (Y/n) down to a doorway, holding it open and motioning for (Y/n) to make her way down the stairs. Upon arriving, she could tell that the place was newly occupied: sparse furniture that looked as though it could fall apart at any moment, lots of repairs that needed to be done in the plaster and cobwebs in the rafters. But she could hear the crackle of a fireplace nearby as well, a sign that they were not too uncomfortable here.

“Claudia.” The man gave Claudia a warm hug in greeting while (Y/n) stood by silently, waiting to be introduced. Though, someone else addressed her first.

“Emma?” The man was much older than (Y/n) and dressed mostly in browns and yellows. (Y/n) could feel her breath hitch in her throat. She hadn’t heard that name in so long that it both killed her and brought her to life at once. Her mother’s name. “No, you’re far too young…” He glanced down at her wrist to see the dull metal of her hidden blade, “Who are you?” His eyes flickered between hers, brows narrowing. A tension seemed to fall over the room and suddenly everyone was suspicious.

“I’m her and Lorenzo’s daughter. I…” She found herself stammering. This man had known her mother’s face and clearly, (Y/n) had grown into it well. Her Aunt had never mentioned that. “I came here looking for answers.” She cast a glance over her shoulder to Claudia, now accompanied by the man who had hugged her in greeting. All of the older people in the room seemed beyond astonished. The man spoke up once more, killing the silence that had now hung over the room for a long time.

“I think we would like some answers now too.” He answered solemnly as whispers broke out among the elders of the group. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean: you’re supposed to be dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my tumblr for sketches of the MC's outfits and my thoughts behind this fic! <3  
> Same username as here!


	6. Rooftops of Roma

(Y/n) took another sip of her bitter coffee as she cast a glance into the fireplace, sitting with the Assassins.

"It doesn't make sense." She shook her head.

"That's precisely why it's so unusual." The man, who she now knew as La Volpe, replied.

"A dead child? They planted a dead child at the villa?" (Y/n) had to close her eyes and take in a deep breath. Her Aunt and Uncle were evermore being revealed as monsters to her. "Why go to that length just to take me in?"

"None of us had seen you in over three years so when we saw the child's body, we all assumed it was you," Machiavelli chimed in.

"But you had no idea that my mother had any family?" (Y/n) repeated again. Why had her mother hidden her past?

"No. She told us that she was an orphan from Vienna and moved to Forlì with her adopted father when she was young."

"She never mentioned Vienna to me as far as I can remember." (Y/n)'s brows furrowed. She could feel tears threatening her eyes but she kept them back as she took another sip of coffee, biting her inner cheek. If only Emma were there for the young woman to question her.

"What I still don't know is the connection between Emma lying about her past and why your Aunt and Uncle had her and Lorenzo killed." Volpe hummed.

"And why they killed an innocent child just to take me in. . ." (Y/n) added quietly, feeling guilt for whoever that nameless, faceless youth was. Whoever she was or would have been had died in her family's scheme.

"And, until now, the only thing you've known of the Assassins was what you found in the letter from my uncle." Claudia's brother added as he handed it back to her, having gone over his passed loved one's handwriting so many times.

"My Aunt and Uncle never mentioned it before. Originally, I thought it was because they didn't know but now I'm not so sure. . . It doesn't sit right anymore."

"There's definitely something deeper here. . ." Machiavelli pondered, walking away to the other room in order to think. (Y/n) put her cup of coffee down on the table beside her, no longer having an appetite for its bitterness. 

"Every time I go looking for answers, all I find is more questions." She sighed exasperatedly.

"And you will have them," Volpe spoke as he stood up, "You are Lorenzo's and he was like family to us, Emma became family in time too. We won't turn you away." She found herself smiling bittersweetly at this. On her journey, she felt that she had lost any sense of home so, while it was nice to be offered somewhere to stay, it felt painfully temporary.

"You may join our ranks." Ezio spoke up, causing some looks of surprise around the room, "Your family come from our Brotherhood and there will be a place for you here if you wish to take it. I'll give you all the time you need to make your decision."

An Assassin. He was right to give her time to make up her mind, it was a very big decision. It was a new life. Wasn't that what she wanted? Either way, she would definitely take her time on this one instead of jumping at every chance presented to her.

"Thank you," She spoke with a grateful bow of her head and she rose from her seat, "I'm aware that I've delayed your meeting, I'll let you get on." And she made her way back to the main hall where she found a bookcase and a pigeon cage with a carrier pigeon inside.

After a few times, stealing had come naturally to her but killing? Did she have it in her? She shook her head; she needed to know more about this cause before she even started on that train of thought. What about this brotherhood had stirred her mother's passion so much that she had revoked her own family? She turned to the bookshelf, seeing some scrolls tucked between the volumes here and there and decided to see if the papers held any answers for her.

⚜⚜⚜

Two months had passed since and she woke up to the sound of the door across her room opening, hearing footsteps go down the corridor. Emilio's heavy door was usually what woke her up in the morning. (Y/n) threw her arms upon her pillow, groaning as she stretched her back and then sat upright, reaching for her aching shoulders.

She had accepted Ezio's offer of becoming a recruit for the Brotherhood and she felt that she was making good progress. She was not yet trained enough to be called on in the field but she hoped that she would be promoted soon. Ezio was the Brotherhood's primary mentor but he was also a busy man which meant that the recruits often spent most of their training sparring against each other.

(Y/n) fought with her father's hidden blade which had been repaired with a little oil to restore its long-neglected mechanics. The training had definitely taken its physical toll on her: she had not been very athletic before so aches and pains after a long day came without fail but practise and a lot of torn muscles were making her grow more and more used to her new lifestyle. She got out of bed and tidied up the sheets behind her: it had been a skill she'd taught herself during her residence at the Assassin hideout after being raised with servants to do it for her throughout her life.

There were still aspects of (Y/n)'s life as a noblewoman that she didn't want to let go of though and makeup was one of them. It motivated her to get out of bed as soon as she awoke instead of staying curled up in the sheets and she simply didn't feel prepared for the day until it was complete. It didn't take her too long to apply the light powder across her face and neck along with the blush on her lower cheeks. She oiled her lashes, dusted her brows and dappled some lipstick to the centre of her mouth in a matter of minutes then got to weaving her hair into a braid around her head like a crown. Her previous braided style had proved impractical for training as she'd found that they would often hit her in the face if she turned quickly.

She pulled on her wine-coloured recruit robes and took a final glance at herself in the small mirror, touching her necklace to the two strings of pearls around her neck. Somehow those pearls made her feel like she had made the right decision - the pearls of her Assassin mother now being worn by her Assassin-recruit daughter.

(Y/n) had noticed that she was now the best free runner out of the other four recruits but she knew exactly why. As she made her way downstairs to raid the pantry for whatever fruit preserves were left, she reflected on her experience so far. The other recruits didn't trust her and they weren't very good at hiding it. They found her mysterious past daunting somehow and remained suspicious of her because of it. This often meant that she was excluded from sparring so she had been spending much more time running across the rooftops of Rome and (without others knowing) checking the carrier pigeons. She would often check on what sort of contracts were available so that she could grasp a better idea of what it meant to be an Assassin.

She ate her usual breakfast of a cup of coffee and a few slices of bread smeared with fruit preserve. By the time she got to the hall where the recruits would train, she found three of them already sparring, the fourth reading in the corner. She already knew that she wouldn't be included this day and decided to make her way outside instead, climbing up to the roof.

(Y/n) had made it routine to take the leap of faith from the top of the hideout now. She knew that only formally initiated Assassins were supposed to take the leap of faith but she had performed it in an escape from a rooftop archer two weeks ago and loved the thrill that came with it.

Landing in the haystack below, she left Isola Tiberina and made her way further north in the city, scaling a wall once the buildings were close enough to start running over. She liked to challenge herself too: using flag poles, tightropes, ledges and balconies to really expand her potential routes.

Once the afternoon came about and the sun was beating down from overhead, she decided to take shelter on a platform that was fairly sheltered by the taller building beside it, casting her in shadows. The coos of pigeons joined the urban ambience of chatter from the streets below. (Y/n) sat down on and leaned her back against the wall, looking at the view around her. That's when she noticed that there was an irregularity in the shadow of the wall behind her: the straight line was interrupted by a rounded figure. She silently but quickly turned around, keeping in a crouch, suspecting that it was a guard. But what she was met with instead surprised her and she got to her feet as the figure jumped down to join her.

"Mentore," She greeted as his taller figure approached her, gesturing for her to sit back down. She did and he joined her, one of his knees propped up with his arm resting over it. It had been quite a while since the recruits had seen Ezio in more than just passing.

"Recruits aren't supposed to do the leap of faith, you know." He started and (Y/n) opened her mouth to apologise so quickly that she had missed the tone of amusement in his voice, "But you did it well, fearlessly, as it should be done."

"I actually wasn't as afraid as I thought I'd be the first time I did it." She started, glancing at him as he looked across the streets of Rome, "But that probably had something to do with that fact that the guard had already shot two arrows at my feet and I doubted that he would miss a third time." 

This made the man beside her laugh heartily, "I do think that the first time should be more ceremonial but desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Have you been following me all day or did you happen to find me again?" She questioned, now knowing that there was the chance she had actually been observed all day.

"You'll have to find out the next time this happens." He replied and (Y/n) set her eyes back on the streets, the hot sun climbing ever higher into the sky. "You're much better at freerunning than the rest of the recruits." He praised.

"I just spend more time doing it." She bit her cheek, "They don't seem to trust me enough to let me train with them as much as I'd like." She could see him turn to face her from the corner of her eyes.

"They just have a lot of questions."

"So do I. . ." She shifted the way that she was sitting, bringing her knees up enough to rest her arms over them. "I've been at a standstill for a while in terms of looking for answers and now I'm worried that I won't be able to find anymore." She confided.

"Journeys like yours can be long and they can stop and start at times," He began, "Believe me, I would know. I spent years hunting all the men involved in my family's murder: I was acting as an Assassin without knowing that my father was one, that my brother was to take over for him while I minded the bank. Now I'm the Assassin and Claudia is the one who knows how to handle our finances. Sometimes you just need to let yourself sit out for a while before you're able to keep on going."

"I heard about your family in Florence. . . People still talk about you." He hummed, a smile teasing his face then vanishing again.

"I made some irrational decisions when I was young. My first major kill was out in the open and I announced myself to the crowd after. I've been a wanted man for a long time." There was a silence. "Just promise me that you won't let this take you down a path of vain revenge. It'll only hurt you more." She could hear in his voice that he was speaking from experience still.

"I'm not entirely sure that I can promise that. My own family killed my parents, essentially kidnapped me and lied to me for years. I'm not sure if I can forgive that and I'm not sure that I can face them again. I know that the day will come when I'll have to but I just don't know if I can."

"This life will toughen you up whether you want it to or not. When the time comes, you'll be ready." He patted her shoulder as he rose to his feet. "Andiamo."

"Where are we going?" (Y/n) asked as she followed him across an archway to another roof, continuing to lead her east.

"To teach you how to better use that blade!" He called from ahead of her and a smile painted her face.


	7. Smoke and Bloodshed

Ezio had taken her into one of the eastern districts to some ruins where he said they would be able to practise undisturbed. He'd made her demonstrate some more of her climbing abilities by making her way up one of the old columns and following him from above.

She was happy to hear that his only criticism was that she needed to learn how to make her footsteps quieter but that her technique was flawless other than that (she supposed that the only requirements for flawless were: don't fall and break your legs). When he joined him back on the ground, he seemed to think for a moment before speaking:

"I've been wanting some of you recruits to help me around Roma, follow me and aid me in any fights that I signal for you to join in. The others aren't able to keep as you can yet but I need you to be able to move around unseen and unheard if you want to join me. It'll be the first step in climbing up a rank." He explained as he took a dagger out from his belt, twirling it in his deft fingers for a moment.

"Absolutely!" (Y/n) exclaimed, eager to get ahead, "I'll train as you see fit, Mentore." She bowed her head for a moment before hesitating, considering her request.

"I'm a skilled archer if that's any help." She added.

"An archer? Recruits only use the hidden blade."

"My uncle used to take me out hunting. I'm a steady hand and quick to aim." She explained. Ezio nodded his head in reply.

"Yes, that would be very useful for the work I want you to do. I'll see to getting you a bow as soon as you're able and I'd like you to teach the other recruits in my absence if you're as good as you say." He raised the dagger up, getting into a fighting stance. "But for now I'd like to see if you can hold your ground against me."

(Y/n) took a moment to consider the challenge. He was a master assassin and she was mostly untrained in close combat, she was already at a disadvantage. But, he had said that he simply wanted to test her skills when they were on their journey to the temple ruins so she assumed that he would start off easy and gradually push her more.

She brought her hands up and extended the hidden blade, taking a careful step to the side of his non-dominant hand, waiting for him to make the first strike. After realising that she was waiting for him to hit first, he dove forwards, (Y/n) quickly dodging out of the way and swiping at him. His body turned to face hers as he crouched down to dodge another swipe of her blade and she took a few steps back, realising that she was moving with too much effort and exhausting herself far too quickly. However, Ezio took his upper hand and closed the distance, taking the chance to grab her robes with one hand and pull her forwards, the hilt of the dagger pressed to her stomach; had this been a real fight and he hadn't turned the dagger over, she would be dead.

"I won't put so much effort into swinging my arm next time." She spoke up, looking down at the blade as he let her go.

"You learn quick." He smiled.

"Shouldn't we be doing this back at the hideout? I mean, with the other recruits?" She prompted.

"I wanted to take the chance to talk to you about your choices in the brotherhood first and having to watch four recruits freerun at once while making sure they don't fall and break something can be. . . stressful." He shrugged his shoulders a little, spreading his hands as he spoke. He raised the dagger once more, "Again, show me how you can conserve your energy more."

They continued to train until the sky's blue started to melt into amber and they headed back to the hideout, Ezio stopping along the way to tear down a few wanted posters of himself. At once point, (Y/n) had spotted a chest and decided that they would race for it, only being beaten by him by a few footsteps. Before they entered the rooftop door, Ezio put his hand in front of her to stop her.

"Tomorrow, I want you to locate me in the city and tail me. If you can do so for at least half an hour without me noticing, you'll start following me around Roma and supporting me in combat. Understood?"

"Yes, Mentore." She replied before he smiled and let her through.

"Brava."

As she made her way down the stairs, she thought about how much she enjoyed challenges now, especially challenging herself. She felt that it gave her some more freedom over her life, something to prove that she could accept willingly instead of having it forced on her, she felt more in control of her life when she was setting her own goals and boundaries.

⚜⚜⚜

The next day, she awoke even before Emilio's heavy door could startle her out of sleep, excited for the challenge ahead. She quickly dressed and prepared herself before going downstairs for her usual small breakfast and coffee. She decided that she would head to La Rosa in Fiore, the thieves' guild and the barracks as her first locations to find him. Something new that she considered was that she would have to find Ezio before he found her, so she would have to move stealthily the whole time.

As she made her way up onto the rooftops, she started making sure that her shadow was not visible on the street below and she stayed out of the way of the Borgia archers. It took her two hours before she saw him crossing a field in the distance on a horse that must have been stolen because the guard was starting to give up on chasing the Master Assassin. (Y/n) smiled amusedly to herself as she kept a low crouch, making her way to higher ground on the ruins, tucking herself into shadowy corners and trying to keep up with the speed of the horse by making shortcuts across its path.

Eventually, Ezio ditched the horse and started moving through the streets. (Y/n) kept to rooftops for as long as possible until the buildings were too low and it was better to follow from the streets, blending into crowds of people or civilians sitting on benches, often pretending to be bartering with a merchant when she saw her target's eyes cat up towards the rooftops, expecting her to be up there.

He knew that it was her strong point and, then perhaps, expected her to play to her strengths. That was when she made the decision to stick to the crowds and shadows.

She had been following him for ten minutes until a guard started to recognise him from the posters that were all over the city. (Y/n) watched as he sat down on a bench and let the lone guard approach him, waiting until he was close enough to grab before sinking his blade into the man's neck and propping him upright in the seat. (Y/n)'s eyes widened in amazement at the stealth of the kill: in broad daylight, in a bustling area and absolutely no one noticed.

She started to wonder if she would be able to do the same. Did she have it in her to kill someone? Would she be able to do it or would she die trying? Ezio had told her that this life would toughen her up and she could only hope that he was right. She had to stop herself from staring and stepped around the corner as he started looking around to make sure that no one had noticed what he had done. She left it a few minutes before turning the corner again, seeing him much further down the street and doing her best to catch up to him at a safe distance without running.

It had been nearly forty minutes now and (Y/n) was still tailing him. He had told her to just follow for half an hour but she was pushing herself to see just how long she could stay hidden in plain sight for. While staying seated on a bench, keeping her eyes on him from beneath her hood, she noticed how a group of patrolling guards were now watching him warily, one of the lighter-dressed ones running off then returning with a sheet of paper in his hands: a wanted poster.

"It is him!" She heard the one with the heaviest armour exclaim as he gripped his halberd and streaked his way through the crowd towards him. (Y/n) looked at the group and how a second patrolling group had now fixed their attention to what was about to happen in the square.

Ezio was on the guard before he could even be confronted by him, sword drawn and going through the gap beneath the helmet, taking down the biggest guy first. (Y/n) watched as he attacked, blocked, defended and killed. The people all around scattered into nearby streets, some running for their lives while others remained to watch from a safer distance.

(Y/n) bit her cheek as she considered intervening. She had not yet been allowed to assist him, her only task for today was to tail but there were so many of them and she was worried that he was overwhelmed. His hand reached behind him to his smoke bomb pouch and she could see his eyes widen as he counter-killed a guard who had previously dodged each hit. His escape plan was gone, the pouch was empty.

(Y/n) stood and turned to scale the wall, making her way onto the rooftop and getting a different view of the fight, remaining crouched. Two of them were still agile enough to miss each swing of her mentor's sword so she knew that she would need to take one of those out as they were faster too and may be able to catch up when she created a window of opportunity to escape.

Leaning over the edge of the roof, in the perfect position to come down on the guard's back, she could feel her heart racing, the clashing of swords seeming to fade away.

Could she do it? Could she kill them? Did she really have it in her to be an Assassin?

She thought of why she was here, why she was now leading this new life. Her family had killed her parents, kidnapped her and lied to her and she was going to do whatever it took to find out why. Her body trembled slightly with rage as she thought over all the years that she had lived in ignorance, of every single day that her aunt and uncle had looked her in the eyes and kept the truth hidden from her. Her aunt and uncle.

She threw the smoke bomb to the cobbled ground below with a great force and leapt, landing on the guard's back and sinking her blade into his neck, retracting it and pulling the second guard forwards onto her blade while he was blinded. The smokescreen wouldn't last long enough for her to kill them all so she grabbed Ezio's arm and ran, him following her in silence as they ran over some crates and onto overhanging rooves and beams, making their way onto a nearby roof where Ezio threw a knife at the guard who had shouted for them to get down.

(Y/n) found her body shaking violently, breath panting, her heart hammering in her ears.

"I'm sorry, I know that I shouldn't have done it but you looked too outnumbered and I saw that you didn't have any bombs left and it seemed like the right thing to do so-" Her words babbled out as she pulled her hood down, feeling claustrophobic, even in the open air. "-I killed them. I killed them!" She could feel tears spilling down her face now, deciding that it was best to sit on the floor before she collapsed onto it instead. She brought her knees up to her chest, just wanting to curl up until she was so small that she would simply just disappear. Her hands covered her mouth, feeling them trembling still. Thoughts raced through her head of who those men could have been: fathers, brothers, husbands. . . and now they were just memories.

But that wasn't the worst part.

"Ehi, shhh." Ezio crouched down in front of her and placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing his hand there to try and get her attention, "It's ok, you did the right thing."

"I thought about my family when I did it." She whispered, in such disbelief that she couldn't muster her full voice, "I wanted to kill them." She felt disgusted with herself. They may have lied to her but they had raised her too, they had given her a life full of luxuries. Ezio spoke up again, ash-brown eyes boring into hers.

"Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember:"

"Everything is permitted." She let out a ragged breath and smeared her tears with her fingers. He stood up and offered his hand, pulling her up when she took it. She was still shaking and he pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and squeezing her for a moment, feeling her slowly wrap her quivering arms around his middle, holding on tight.

"These thoughts don't make you a bad person. The way that we fight does not make us bad people. You did the right thing today and thinking of what you did when you killed them wasn't bad. They wronged you and you're allowed to be angry, you're allowed to express that anger as long as it means you control it and not the other way around." He could feel her nod her head and he rubbed her shoulder for a moment, waiting for her to let go in order to release her. He looked down to see her tear-stained cheeks and frowned.

"Come, let's head back. You could do with resting on this." She nodded her head again, staying silent as she wiped her tears and began following him down from the roof where he called a horse for them both to mount, (Y/n) sitting in front of him while he held the reigns.

She liked the closeness of him and, had she not been feeling so disgusted with herself, she probably would have enjoyed the way he had held her too. He was right to keep her close on the way back, it was comforting to know that she hadn't lost his support even if she felt like she couldn't support her own actions and thoughts at that moment.

"You'll be promoted tomorrow." He spoke as they made their way back to Tiber Island.

"But you don't know how long I was tailing you for." She retorted in a quiet voice.

"I saw your coat tails dip around the corner when I killed the guard from the bench." She could hear the smile in his voice, "I had been looking out for you on the rooftops up until then." (Y/n) managed a small smile at knowing she had been right.

"I thought as much."

"But you've proven a lot today: you can make good decisions in a fight, finishing it quickly and efficiently and you can assess the situation too. Most importantly, you can kill. Even if you doubt that you can now, I know that you have it in you. You're strong." He paused for a moment, humming, "You remind me of myself a lot, you know? You have that same fire, that same drive to succeed, to survive, to excel. Although," he laughed a little, "I'd say that you're much more subtle, wiser in some ways too. Just don't underestimate yourself and don't lose sight of what you already have."

That touched her a lot. She knew that they both knew the pain of losing loved ones and of betrayal. He wasn't given much of a choice in becoming an Assassin, it was his only option but she had sought them out willingly, choosing to follow this path. Perhaps he was right about underestimating herself, perhaps she could do with being more confident.

She felt much lighter when they finally arrived, her taking Ezio's offer to help her from the horse even if she didn't need it. Like a gentleman, he had held the door open for her once more when they made their way back inside.

As soon as (Y/n) had descended the last step, she was pushed to the floor and the wind was knocked from her lungs, seeing Emilio pinning her down with his hidden blade pressed to her jugular.

"Spy!" He exclaimed with his other hand a fist with her clothes clutched in her fingers. "I knew it! We all knew it!"

"What is going on here?!" Ezio demanded, looking around all the recruits.

"We found this in her bag!" Anna replied, holding up a red cross in her hand, (Y/n)'s broach that she had kept among her few belongings.

"Templar spy!"


End file.
